The Adventures of Sherbert Cones
by Swordmeister Crona
Summary: A bored and slightly sociopathic Atlas engineer has his life turned upside-down after a run-in with a mischievous thief. This story is mostly character driven and will contain a great deal of head cannon regarding the nature of souls on Remnant.


Author's Note— Hello World! This is my first fic so please be gentle. I'm still learning, so I appreciate feedback-but not flames. This fic was born mostly out of Rooster Teeth's annoying practice of not explaining absolutely everything that goes on in Remnant. As a result, I have had to fill in some gaps in how both society, and the soul, work in the RWBYverse. It also allows me to introduce the first of a number of OC's that have been jostling my brain for months begging to be written. This first chapter takes place some time around season two.

Cheers,

Swordmeister Crona.

P.S.- This story is designed to exist within the cannon universe and conform to all the existing plot lines. However, I will be taking advantage of story gaps and making some personal speculation's about Remnant's future and my OC's place in it. This is not meant to be an AU, just me inserting my characters into the world as it exists.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, nor any of the characters, plot lines, etc associated with it. These are the property of Rooster Teeth Productions. I do not own Sherlock Holmes either but I think he's technically in the public domain.

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Chapter 1- A Study in Semblance

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Atlas weapons technician Sherbert Cones was terribly bored. Here he was, sitting in the Atlas military's designated "smart-people's room", surrounded by the nation's best and brightest in the field of blowing up Grimm; and he was terribly, unbelievably bored. It was times like these when he thought to himself, _Could the Grimm possibly evolve any slower?_ The new creatures had only appeared six days, nine hours and twenty minutes ago, but his new hyper-efficient Dust-shrapnel cartridges had, if the reports were to be believed, reduced the local population by seventy-four percent.

It was as if the Grimm weren't even trying.

Sherbert stared blankly into space as his colleagues took turns patting him on the back, congratulating him on another successful design. As he stared, Sherbet's mind wandered. Conquering a new breed of Grimm through the sheer power of innovation no longer brought the thrill of accomplishment it once had. To make matters worse, he had been studying patterns of Grimm evolution, and it seemed that their power increase was linear. Meanwhile his skill at neutralizing them grew exponentially which, as any good mechanist could tell, meant he would have to wait longer and longer for a new Grimm to test his intellect. Sherbert Cones sighed. At least this evolutionary lag would give him more time to pursue his own projects.

He forced his eyes to refocus, even though as he did his semblance kicked in, and he suddenly knew the design and makeup of every device on the workbench in front of him, their blueprints laid out before his eyes like computer models. Sherbert glanced around at the Atlas engineers and accepted their praise with a neutral face, spouting his standard post-victory comments such as "It was quite simple really" and "I'm astounded you needed me to see such an obvious solution". It was all just a routine by now.

Finally, Cones managed to excuse himself, knowing that if he didn't leave soon, he would have to answer questions from the press, and they were even more insistent than his co-workers. He sauntered down the corridor towards the quarters which the military had provided for he went, his Mechanist's Eye told him that all the security cameras and sensors were working perfectly, and that the security codes had just been changed over. The Atlas military didn't have the faintest idea how much leverage he had against them should they ever seek to harm him. He had intentionally glossed over the full nature of his semblance during his first week of work. During that time Sherbert had discovered that, if you offer someone quick solutions to urgent problems, you rarely have to answer annoying questions, such as: "What inspired you to join the fight against the Grimm?" or "How little are you willing to work for?" or "Can we see your mental health records?".

Sherbert Cones was no huntsman. He would gladly tell that to anyone who asked. Technically, he wasn't even part of the military. His higher-ups had called him an "Independent Military Contractor", but Sherbert had negotiated for the title of "Consultant Technician", which he claimed better described his job (primarily consulting with the other engineers on their obvious oversights and proceeding to scrap their ideas in favor of his own).

In return for repeatedly saving their ill-conceived projects General Ironwood provided him with meals, a lieutenant's quarters, and all the Dust he needed for personal experimentation. This was really everything Cones had ever wanted, but he was still disappointed it was all Atlas was willing to provide. Finally, Sherbert arrived at his private quarters. He opened the door with a quick wave of his scroll and entered the room. As the door slid closed behind him he gingerly removed his deerstalker cap and placed it on the coat rack in the corner of the room. Another useful side affect of fixing other people's problems was that they rarely questioned your fashion choices. Of course, he could always threaten to leak Atlas security codes if they ever insisted he wear a uniform. Cones removed his brown trenchcoat and hung it alongside the hat. Next, he ran a hand across his rainbow-swirled hair and pulled out the thin ponytail that kept it off his shoulders. Now dressed only in his grease-stained work shirt and suspenders Cones took in the familiar sights of his quarters.

Most of the room was occupied by his various projects, set up on tables or scaffoldings around the room. Sherbert let out a slow breath. This was one of the few places in the compound where his semblance didn't give his a headache from data overload. This was because virtually everything in this room he had made himself, and his semblance seemed to know that there was no new information to be had. Cones walked to the far corner where his latest battle android was held up by simple pole attached to its lower back. "Good evening Gepetto," he addressed the machine "Let us continue our previous experiment." At the sound of its name the android lifted its head, its face glowing blue to indicate it was active, and detached itself from the pole to which it had been fixed. "Gepetto, run a standard combat simulation, and don't forget to plug yourself in so we can test the simulated aura against my weapon." The machine nodded in acknowledgment and, pulling an extension cord from its lower back, proceeded to plug itself into the nearest wall outlet. A moment later the light around the android began to warp, creating a translucent second skin around its body- the artificial aura. "Sherbert smiled at his handiwork and pulled a small metal cylinder from his belt. He flicked a tiny switch on the device and it immediately extended to a foot-and-a-half long shaft with two mandible-like jaws on each end. A moment later electricity began crackling along either end of the taser rod. Sherbert's smile widened just a little. "Begin the simulation Gepetto," he commanded. The robot stepped forward as far as the extension cord would let him, picking up a set of nunchucks from a table as he did so. Cones twirled his taser rod casually for a moment before moving in to meet his opponent. The simulation had begun.

...

Some time later Sherbert Cones sat in one of the hard military chairs that were placed, haphazardly, around one of his many cluttered tables. He had finally stopped panting and was wiping his sweaty brow with a grease-stained rag. Having finally caught his breath Cones pulled out his scroll, unlocked the device, and pressed the record button. "The date is xx/xx/xxxx." Sherbert dictated. "Today marks the thirteenth dual test of the artificial aura and the Dust-powered taser rod. As anticipated, the artificial aura cracked after receiving only 300,000 joules of discharged energy. This marks a mere two percent improvement over the previous model. Considering the large amount of energy required to run it, and its relative weakness compared to a human aura, I find it unlikely that this device will ever become standard on Atlas war androids. Meanwhile, the newest incarnation of the Dust taser, which I have taken to calling "Testamentary", performed radically better than its predecessor. It was able to shatter the artificial aura after only a minute of total exposure while consuming only half as much Dust as earlier models. Of course, without a living test subject it is impossible to say how these results would translate to actual hunter-on-hunter combat." Sherbert sighed quietly at the last comment and quickly shut off his scroll. He picked up Testamentary from the work table in front of him and extended it to full length. The weapon was Cones's greatest pride and one of his few joys. Even though he spent his days designing weapons to kill Grimm, his greatest passion was the study of Aura.

Cones was obsessed with Aura.

It was the defining attribute that separated humans from Grimm, the power that separated huntsmen and huntresses from combat droids, and the fuel for the mysterious abilities known as Semblances. Aura was the gateway to an understanding of the soul- and Sherbert knew almost nothing about it. He found it frustrating how few resources Atlas's military put into the study of Aura. Their main objective was to "protect civilians from the forces of darkness", which meant any unrelated projects rarely got government funding. Sherbert had heard stories of the Schnee Dust Company occasionally funding such projects. However, they had failed to respond to his letters thus far. The rainbow-haired engineer sighed. He had tried on multiple occasions to explain to General Ironwood that, if he would just allot him the funds to research Aura, it may eventually lead to an artificial model that their androids could actually use. He had even tried appealing to the general's "humanity", claiming that giving robots aura would eliminate the need for huntsmen to fight, and die, against the Grimm. And yet the general had not been swayed.

Cones looked again at the taser in his hand, and couldn't help but smile. One thing he did know about Aura- was how to break it. That was the endeavor to which he had devoted his evenings for over a year now. Lightning Dust seemed to be the most efficient method thus far. It was potent, conductible, and far easier to control than Fire Dust. Another thing Sherbert knew about Aura was that it was somehow connected to Dust. He had always found it curious that a naturally-occurring, largely inert substance became dangerously powerful when, and only when, it came in contact with the Aura of a souled being. It seemed just a little too perfect to be natural. That mysterious connection was deepened by the fact that Dust could be used to augment Semblances- another aspect of Aura. Sherbert had tried it himself once and found that a microdose of Lightning Dust, taken nasally, made his semblance work approximately twenty percent faster. Of course, it was also rather painful, so he did not do it often. Dust was another reason why Sherbert's androids would never best a huntress at killing Grimm. Their lack of souls meant that, not only did they have no Aura to protect them, but they also couldn't catalyze a Dust reaction. _It's a pity for us,_ Cones Thought, _but its great news for the Atlas Labor Union_. The nature of dust meant that the Schnee Dust Company could never fully automate its factories. Any Dust-powered machinery needed to be manned by someone with a soul, ensuring that there would always be low-level manufacturing jobs in Atlas. Of course, Sherbert cared little for the well-being of Atlas laborers, but that was where his brain insisted on taking him and it had never led him astray.

Ironically, at that very moment Sherbert realized he had forgotten something important. He rose, crossed to the coatrack by the door, and began scrupulously searching every pocket of his trenchcoat. After a few minutes of pocket-frisking Sherbert stopped, sighed, and covered both eyes with one hand. It seemed that, once again, he had misplaced his room-access card. For security reasons, most doors in the compound required a special-issue security card to enter. This included Sherbert's quarters, which Ironwood said was warranted considering the large number of lethal weapons it contained. Of course, Sherbert couldn't be bothered to carry an extra security card around, so after a week working in the compound he had hacked his door so that he could open it with his scroll. Unfortunately, this meant that Cones tended to leave his security card in odd places, a practice that had led to several security lectures from General Ironwood and at least one threat to dissolve his contract. Sherbert had carefully considered precisely how essential his services were to Atlas's research-and-development think tank and how much of a margin of error this gave him in terms of "unforgivable security transgressions". From what he could tell, this being the second week in a row with such a transgression, that margin was closing faster than he had expected.

Cones closed his eyes and created a blueprint of the compound in his mind.

— _I've been working in the "Smart People" lab for the majority of the day which means the card is likely in my workspace probably in one of the handheld tool compartments because I would have noticed it if it was in an open space but which compartment what tools did I use today well I spent the majority of my time on that new high-impact grenade gauntlet for dropping Nevermores and come to think of it I remember sweeping off my workspace at lunchtime to get all the socket wrenches put away faster which means…_ —

Sherbet opened his eyes. He now knew exactly where his security card was. He quickly donned his trenchcoat and placed his deerstalker cap back on his polychromatic head. If he hurried he would be able to retrieve his card before the general knew it was missing. Then Sherbert wouldn't be forced to reveal his intimate knowledge of Atlas security codes in order to keep his job. It was a valuable trump card for negotiations and he would have preferred not to give it up sooner than necessary. With that thought he exited his quarters at a fast walk, heading for his workstation.

...

Meanwhile, at Sherbert Cones's workstation in Atlas's foremost military lab, General Ironwood had just pulled a small, shinny access card from a box of socket-wrenches stuffed haphazardly under the table. The general sighed. This was the second time in two weeks. Who did this Dust-forsaken rainbowhead think he was. He was arrogant, condescending, and had no respect for the well-being or safety of anyone but himself. Unfortunately, he was also a genius, and Atlas needed every one of those it could get. That was why Ironwood had put up with him all these months. Despite his lack of respect for security, he had to admit that Cones had accelerated their weapons innovation at least fourfold since he had arrived. That meant more Grimm killed and more lives saved. Even so, as Ironwood looked down at the misplaced security card he had to wonder if it was worth it. He had had a very trying conversation with professor Ozpin that day and was in no mood to deal with Cones's carelessness. He looked around the room for someone to do the dirty work for him. "You, Private! get over here!" A short green eyed woman in full Atlas military apparel jogged over to Ironwood and promptly saluted. "At ease Private. I just need you to do me a favor." The woman continued to stand at attention but nodded firmly at what he had said. The general handed her the security card, which she finally lowered her hand to accept. "I need you to find Independent Contractor Sherbert Cones and give this to him, and make it clear that this negligence of security protocol is not tolerated in Atlas." The Private saluted once more before rushing off to perform her duty. Ironwood sighed again. It wasn't the first time he had given Cones that line. He would have to come up with some new material. But now there were more important matters to attend to.

...

The young Private smirked to herself as she walked down the corridors of Atlas's most secure military compound. She was so pleased with herself that she had to fight the urge to skip down the corridor instead of walk. As she passed by a security camera a reflection of light forced her to blink momentarily. When her eyes reopened they were no longer green. One was now strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown. Realizing the transgression, Neo Politan kept her head down and quickly blinked again to restore her disguise. The camera shouldn't have seen her. The thief continued to walk down the corridor, more slowly this time now that she realized there was still time to fuck up. At last she reached door 221 B, behind which, if her sources could be trusted, lay the greatest and deadliest toys the Atlas military possessed. Neo smiled wider and, if she had a voice, would have likely laughed out loud with child-like excitement. She raised her ill-gotten key card to the lock and, a moment later, heard the delicious sound of the door's tumblers all lining up. Soon all the secrets of Atlas would be hers…


End file.
